


Immortals

by TheBeardedOne



Category: Original Work, Science Fiction - Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeardedOne/pseuds/TheBeardedOne
Summary: In a land where mortals and immortals work together, an usurper threatens to destroy all that is good.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first short story that I finished, it is meant to be just that, short. This story can be treated as a beta-test, it was actually created so that I could see my weaknesses and strengths as a writer. Turns out the former are numerous and the latter few, making writing a less-than-ideal career choice. Nevertheless, I refuse to delete this story on the basis that someday I might decide to try and rewrite it as a longer story with a better arc to the story-line and a smoother integration of the concepts and backstories. Should I do so, however, I will save it as a different file.  
> TheBeardedOne  
> 27/10/02  
> .  
> Author's edit - I'd completely forgotten about this story until I rediscovered it while searching for another.  
> It may be cliche-ridden, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

**Prologue**

On the world of Eyarth, Mortals and Immortals co-exist uneasily, the Mortals envious of the Immortals' eternal lives, the Immortals worried about the Mortals jealousy and fear.

Only one Mortal country, Eldrakal, has truly embraced the Immortals, and has developed its society round them. In Eldrakal, Immortals are free to do what they wish without fear, as long as they do not act unjustly or unfairly to others. Many Immortals in Eldrakal have in turn 'adopted' mortal families, aiding them down the generations, giving help and advice, acting as a surrogate parent or a trusted adviser as the situation requires, and allowing those families to include the name of the Immortal in the family name. Other Immortals have chosen to serve and protect Eldrakal, some in the army, others freelance, all acting for the good of the country.

The inclusion of Immortals into the country is symbolized by the enchantments woven into the Crystal Crown, created at the Founding of the Country by six Mortal mages, and six magical Immortals. By mutually agreed tradition, only a Mortal can wear the Crystal Crown, and once placed upon the Mortal's head, the complex spells woven into the crystalline matrix of the Crown sense the Monarch's personality, and Calls an Immortal to their side, to become his or her friend, advisor and aide.  
With a long-term view available to him or her, the Monarchs of Eldrakal are renowned for unusual honesty, stability and the courage to take decisions that will have negligible short-term impact, but will prove beneficial in the long-term, sometimes over a century in the future. However, even the longest and most stable traditions can be overturned by treachery and bad luck...

* * *

.

**Chapter One**

_._

_Nine-score and two moons  
_ _After the LionKing doth fall,  
_ _A GryphonKing will rise up  
_ _To rule wisely over all._

_-Extract from the Crystal's Prophecy_

The dark-cloaked figure ran towards the gate set into the wall of the city. The figure's slit-pupilled eyes spotted the dark-clad assassin-guards on either side of the archway of the gate, as well as the slight discolourations on their weapons that indicated poison. Swerving into a side-alley, the figure paused for a second, then made an inhumanely high leap onto the steep roof of a house. Balancing precariously on the slates, holding a sheathed sword in one hand and a blanket-wrapped bundle in the other, the figure glanced round to check that no-one had spotted it. The light from the torches below briefly caught its face, showing it to be a male cat-like being. Apparently satisfied, he ran silently along the ridge of the roof towards the wall, and effortlessly leapt from the roof to the battlements. Without pausing, he leapt out from the wall, soaring across the moat and landing softly on the unforgiving ground before vanishing into the forest surrounding the city. Moving quietly, he crested a hill and glanced back at the city, and its castle, remembering...

.

_The baby's laughter echoed round the chamber as he was tickled. The owner of the furry paws tickling him smiled, and in a set of movements bespeaking long practice, removed his diaper, cleaned him up and put a new diaper on while continuing to tickle him. Once changed, the baby was picked up and carried into a larger room, before being carefully placed in a large cradle near the fire._

_"You make a great mother, Lyon."_

_The speaker leaned forward to pick up his goblet, the flickering firelight reflecting on his crystal crown and regal features. The other being paused, watching the baby boy doze off before answering._

_"I do what I have to, Shalakhan, you know that. After your wife... passed beyond, there was no way that you could devote enough time to him as well as rule wisely. Besides, we immortals reproduce slowly, if at all. As such, we tend to take pride in helping you humans with your cubs."_

_Shalakhan chuckled softly at the mild rebuke._

_"Lyon, my friend and companion, where would I be without you to advise me and lend me your wisdom?"_

_Lyon sat down on the special chair that had been crafted to correctly support his felinoid form before replying._

_"Probably at war with all our neighbours, knowing your temper. At least you don't take after your uncle, the Traitor, just your father, the Impulsive."_

_Lyon breathed deeply, then turned to face the king._

_"Something is bothering you, Shal. Tell me, maybe I can help."_

_Shal stared at the flickering flames._

_"The Oracle came to see me, Lyon."_

_Lyon raised a brow, the Oracle rarely stirred from the temple where she had resided since the formation of the kingdom of Eldrakal._

_"What portents did she speak of?"_

_Shal stirred uneasily and glanced at the crib, assuring himself that his son was fast asleep._

_"The Oracle told me that the Crystal Song was coming true, and that I would die on the Cliff-top tower in four moons time. She said that before I die, I must shed my blood in the hollow spike of the Crystal Crown."_

_Lyon gasped with recognition._

_"The Bloodline Inheritance?"_

_"Yes, old friend. Once I have spilled my blood into the Crystal Crown, only I or my son, Kallakhan, can reclaim it. There was more. You, Lyon, are the future of my son, she said to take him to the place that you left behind you when you were Called by the Crown. I do not understand that part, but she said that you would."_

_Lyon nodded slowly._

_"I understand only too well, my friend. Darkness is coming, and we cannot stop it. I only hope that I can keep your son alive until he can reclaim his inheritance."_

_Shal nodded slowly._

_"The Oracle has never been wrong, my friend. My son will need the Crystal Sword, but the Oracle said that I would hold it until just before I die, on the Cliff Tower. Do you have any idea of how we can ensure that Kal will get the Sword?"_

_Lyon nodded slowly._

_"Yes, but it depends on two things. Your accuracy, and my speed."_

.

The baying of hounds and the sound of horns jolted Lyon out of his reverie, and he glanced down at the gate, spotting the torches undoubtedly held by professional hunters and mercenaries.

Reaching into the hollow trunk of an old lightning-blasted oak, he pulled out a large double haversack. Putting it on, he carefully placed the bundle he was holding in the pouch on his chest, and the sheathed sword in two specially-placed loops on the back bag, which was bulging with provisions. Turning, he sprinted into the deep forest and waded into a stream. Spotting a solid branch above him, he crouched and leapt up, digging his claws into the wood and swinging himself onto it.  
Balancing with the ease of a lifelong acrobat, he paused for a second before launching himself from one branch to another, flitting through the forest like an overlarge bat, or a night-black owl, moving in an irregular zig-zag away from the now-hostile city that he had once called home. As he moved, his mind reached back, to the day that he should have realized that the traitor had made his first real move...

.

_"Seneschal Jonothan Of Garallo, Commander Kathleen of Tarragar and Prime Sourcerer J'hatakh of the Northern Mountains."_

_Shalakhan looked up at the Heralds proclamation and waved the three of them in. Jonothan strode round to take his seat on Shal's right, ignoring Lyon who was standing just behind Shalakhan, J'hatakh moved to his left and Kathleen moved to the final empty chair on the table, nodding to the representatives of the city guilds and traders as she did so._

_Only one failed to return her nod, the leader of the Criminal's Guild, who by tradition always wore a black mask to hide his face, black gloves to hide his hands and a cowled robe of the deepest black. Round his neck he wore the symbol of the council, a circle emblazoned with the symbols of the four Elements, Earth, Air, Fire and Water on one face and the four OtherGifts, Lightning, Healing, Mindspeaking and Mindlifting, on the other. The medallion was the only ornamentation the thief wore, not only to show that he was a Council member, but also to remind the others that according to tradition, his person was sansocrant in the Castle grounds and for an hour after leaving them. Shal carefully noted his lack of reaction to Kathleens presence before speaking._

_"Welcome. It has been a busy quarter, so please report."_

_One by one all the Guildsmen and tradermen except for the thief spoke up, each confirming high profits and minimal disruptions. After they had finished talking, Jonothan stood up._

_"Political relations as follows, Gral in the east, Non-hostility treaty in place, negotiations for trading concessions underway. The Wildlands in the north, trade established with another seven known tribes, and three previously unknown, bringing the tribe total up to one hundred and sixty seven, of which only twenty are actively hostile, but are being restrained by the others who value our goods and services. South, both Trallak'sland and Tlapp are in full trade with us, and are agreeing to grant Immortals Citizen status, like us. They are very impressed at how the Humans and Immortals here are both contributing to a stable society. The Islands of Coral to the west have cut back their raids by seventy percent after the Battle of Khantal, and will soon be sending delegates to discuss an end to the unofficial war between us."_

_As Jonothan sat down, Kathleen stood up._

_"Security report. Recorded crimes down ten points. Murder and Rape down to almost nothing, balanced by a corresponding increase in petty theft, fraud and raiding of rich person's houses. Security guards also report rumours about a true king coming to claim the Crystal Crown, my spies are trying to track the rumours down. Other than that, a large party of religious converts are arriving in a moon, J'hatakh has informed me that they belong to the Sun-Father/Earth-Mother pacifist cult, so threat rating is negligible."_

_The black-masked man stood as Kathleen sat down, ignoring the glare of hatred that she sent him. Speaking in a low voice, he hissed his words to disguise his voice._

_"The renegade thieves reported by the Monetary and Credit Arranging Guildmaster in the last meeting have been caught and disciplined, the money will be returned tomorrow minus ten percent thieves tithe. The Grey Rapist has likewise been captured, he is still alive, although now a eunuch, and is being turned over to Guardswoman Kathleen's people as we speak, free of charge. The five renegade murderers are still being hunted, but we believe that they have fled to the Forest. My deputy in the Forest has agreed to locate and turn them over to Kathleen's people, at thirty gold pieces each alive, or ten dead. Is that acceptable?"_

_Kathleen nodded sullenly._

_"Good, the Smugglers report that they have managed to import the magical herbs Wolfsbane Giganticus and Venusian Blastflower as requested by J'hatakh for his experiments, sneaking them out from the Islands of Coral was hard, and so the price is slightly higher than originally quoted. Finally, the payment for the captured thieves in your jail will be delivered anonymously to the east gate at sunset. I expect the thieves on the accompanying list to be released at true-dawn tomorrow. Rest assured, they will be disciplined severely for their lapses."_

_The black-clad thief sat down again, and bowed slightly to Kathleen in a gesture of respect from one opponent to another. Finally J'hatakh stood up._

_"The forces of Magic show that there will be a heavy storm in two days time, ending after it has rained for six hours. I would suggest that any perishable goods or goods that are not water-resistant be stowed away accordingly. In addition, it has come to my attention that the thieves have started to steal from Mage-shops. While it was inevitable, it is also inadvisable, several items that were stolen have highly unusual spells and curses built into them."_

_"I know." muttered the thief. "It took me six hours to get down off the ceiling, and it was another eight before the blasted spell wore off."_

_J'hatakh waited for the explosion of laughter to die down before he continued._

_"That sounds like a level seven spell of levitation. For future reference, the phrase to end it is 'J'hallahan'tapal', emphasis on the tapal. Finally, one of my apprentices has accidentally created a new spell, one that allows people to quadruple their strength for short periods of time with no energy-debt afterwards. I am sure that it will be very useful in the Ship-building and Carting Guilds. Once we have finished testing it for unanticipated side-effects, we will sell it, with the usual warnings_ which should not be disregarded _."_

_J'hatakh stared intently at the Farmer-guildsman as he spoke. The man coughed and turned red._

_"What did he do?" asked Kathleen curiously._

_"He tried to use some Spell Boots of Speed at the same time as a Spell Torc of Foreign Speech. It took eight of us two days to stop him from babbling, and a Healer required another three hours to Heal his sprained tongue."_

_Once again, the room filled with laughter, and even the Farmer-guildsman smiled in embarrassment._

.

Lyon's lip curled in hatred. The traitor might possibly have been identified had anyone actually placed together the information from the meeting with the Crystal Song, but he had distracted the council.

Looking ahead, he spotted the edge of the Forest and the start of a farm. Nimbly landing on a fence, he leapt from post to post, being careful not to fall off, and thus leave a possible sign that he had passed in that direction. Jumping over a cart track, he landed on a milestone and used it as a platform to somersault over the hedgerow. Ducking down he opened his front bag and peered into it. A small sigh assured him that Kal was still asleep, and he resumed his journey, flitting across the fields and sliding through the hedgerows as he headed towards the mountains. Once again, his mind wandered back, to the day of the revolution...

.

_A massive explosion shook the castle, and woke the entire population at once. Lyon leapt up from the low rock platform he slept on and raced through to Kal's room. Scooping up the scared infant, he quickly wrapped him untill only his head showed, then he sprinted back through to Shal's room, where Shal was already arming himself._

_"Is it today?" Lyon asked urgently._

_Shal nodded sadly as he fastened his swordbelt._

_"Yes, it is. The Fourth Moon. Now we find out who, and how. Get to the Lower Cliff Tower as we agreed, I'll go and confront the traitor." Shal strode towards the door, then stopped and returned. Reaching out a huge hand, he lightly touched the forehead of his son._

_"Sleep."_

_Lyon felt Shal's OtherGifts of Healing and Mindspeaking flowing into Kal, sending him into a deep sleep. Shal looked up with a sad smile on his face._

_"He will sleep for two days, and wake hungry. When he grows up, he will have the OtherGifts that I do not, activate them with one of the Medallions and the Spell Of Awakening, then help him to learn how to use them."_

_A tear trickled down his cheek and into his beard._

_"Lyon, my Companion, This is undoubtably the hardest thing I have ever asked you to do..."_

_"Yes, my friend, but I will do it. You have my word."_

_Shal nodded again, gave Lyon the scabbard, then quickly turned and strode out of the door. Lyon waited for a few seconds then, cradling Kal in his arms and placing the scabbord in his belt, he turned and kicked open the shutters. Stepping onto the sill, he glanced at the face of his sleeping charge, then leapt forwards, landing on a tree grown, shaped and pruned specifically to serve as a landing pad for him. Dropping down silently, he glanced round the dark courtyard before creeping over to a recessed door and opening it silently. Using the shadows to hide himself from the panicked servants, he slid through the castle and round the wall until he reached the Lower Cliff Tower. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door, locking it after himself before running up the spiral staircase to the top, where he carefully placed Kal in the shadow of the wall. Positioning himself carefully, he peered across at the wreckage of the main gate, the howling mercenaries pouring through, and the thin line of defenders led by Shal. Shal's voice boomed out over the noise of the incipient battle._

_"I am Shalakhan, the King of Eldrakal. Identify yourself, traitor!"_

_A chuckle sounded, followed by a distorted, but recognisable voice._

_"My lord, you disappoint me. I thought that you would have worked it out by now. The gate, able to withstand any physical force, yet blown off its hinges, the Mercenaries, very expensive you know, and you haven't got a clue."_

_"J'hatakh." growled Shal._

_A flare of light appeared on top of the wall and J'hatakh appeared, his face twisted in rage._

_"Indeed. Well done. J'hatakh, your most trusted mage, your second-most trusted advisor and the cousin you never knew you had!"_

_Shalakhan stepped backwards in shock. J'hatakh continued raving._

_"I should have had the throne! If my father hadn't died in one of those stupid schemes of his before I was born, I would have had it!"_

_Shalakhan recovered and stepped forwards once more._

_"Your father was a traitor to Crown and Country, as are you!"_

_J'hatakh rocked backwards as if hit, then smiled slyly._

_"I have a potion for you, Shalakhan, one that will make you realise that I was born to be the rightful king, not you. Soldiers! Attack, but capture Shalakhan, injure or maim him if he resists, but capture him alive!"_

_With a howl, the Mercs attacked. Shal blocked several blows before lashing out._

_"Back to the Tower!" he shouted._

_"Oh yes," gloated J'hatakh, "Retreat in front of my royalty, you cretin!"_

_Ignoring the constant stream of threats and insults, Shal fought in rearguard position as his rapidly-decreasing force retreated to the Cliff-top Tower, the Crystal blade singing as it slashed through the air and the mecenaries swords. By the time they reached it, only eleven defenders were still standing, and one was severely wounded. He spoke briefly to Shal, then moved forwards and took the brunt of the attack. Even as he fell, the other ten managed to close the door and slam the bolts home._

_"NOOOOO!"_

_J'hatakh's scream of rage echoed round the courtyard. Twisting his hands in a mystical pattern, he chanted words in a language that was not a language, then pointed at the door. A fireball appeared in front of him and raced towards the door at the same time as Shal and his remaining loyal soldiers appeared at the top. The door exploded into hundreds of splinters, instantly killing the two soldiers who had stayed behind to guard the portal. With a roar, the Mercs swarmed up the stairs, and soon poured out onto the roof of the tower. Within minutes, all the loyal soldiers had fallen and Shal was backed against the wall of the tower, with twenty spears and swords pointed at him. Grinning, J'hatakh floated to the top of the tower as Shal slowly reached up with his left hand and removed the Crystal Crown. Suddenly he spun and hurled his sword across the chasm to Lyon, who snagged it from the air and sheathed it in one movement before ducking back down again. Shal turned back to face J'hatakh and raised his right hand above the crown. Blood from one of his many arm wounds slowly flowed down his finger and paused on the end of his fingertip, just above the crown, before falling into the hollow between the two front spikes. When the drop landed, it vanished into the crystal._

_"What have you done?!" screamed J'hatakh, thrusting through the Mercs, trying to reach the now-glowing Crystal Crown. Reaching it, he tried to grab it, then screamed as the light suddenly intensified round the crown. Shal threw the crown into the air, then jumped onto the battlements of the tower. The crown shimmered as it arced upwards, then became insubstantial as it arced down again, coming to a stop a mere metre above the ground, rippling as if seen in a heat haze._

_"The crown is there, J'hatakh," proclaimed Shal,"And only my son or I can reclaim it."_

_J'hatakh looked up from where he was crouched, clutching his withered hand in agony, and Shal shook his head at his muttered comment._

_"I will never help you, willingly or otherwise." Shal stated calmly, then he leapt backwards, falling silently towards the rocks below..._

.

Lyon blinked the tears from his eyes as he remembered how Shalakhan had fallen, arms outstretched as if he was an angel in flight, and not a sound as he fell towards the jagged rocks below. Glancing round, he pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head and strode forwards, heading towards the only other place that he had called home, a place hidden in the mountains, and accessible only through a waterfall-hidden cave that he alone knew of. As he walked, Kal sighed in his sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_And so the lost prince shall be raised in a secret place  
_ _And none shall know where he is, for he shall be above, yet below  
_ _And raised by Immortal, in the ways of Man  
_ _And at the appointed time he shall reclaim the crown that is, yet is not._

_-43rd Prophecy of Silverwing the Dragon-Mage_

.

The dark-haired teenager leapt backwards, swinging his sword in a complex parry that managed to block both the blades of his adversary. Recovering, he spun quickly, striking first at one side, then the other, forcing his opponent to retreat. Suddenly his opponent seemed to pause before leaping into the air and somersaulting over him. Reflexively, the boy spun and slashed upwards, impacting on the wooden breastplate his opponent was wearing. Caught off-balance, the opponent stumbled and fell backwards, the boy's sword at his throat.

"How did I do, Uncle?"

Lyon laughed and carefully pushed the wooden sword aside.

"You did excellently, Kal. You have made real progress over the last year."

Kal grinned and reached down to grab Lyon's practice Twinblade. With a deft twist of the handle, both wooden blades retracted, leaving only an innocuous truncheon-like staff.

"Shall I put these away?"

Lyon nodded as he stood up and rubbed at the base of his tail.

"Kal, that was as close to perfect as I have seen in a long time. Soon you will be able to go into the outer world."

Kal looked round at the valley that had been his home for as long as he could remember.

"Go out? See villages and towns and cities and palaces and castles? Meet other people? See a real river, a proper road?"

Lyon nodded, smiling at Kal's enthusiasm.

"Yes, but first we will need more firewood chopped while I make tea."

Kal nodded and ran off, his bare feet silent on the solid earth.

.

"Who was my father?"

Lyon looked up from his stew and regarded Kal thoughtfully. Cocking his head slightly he came to a decision.

"Who was he? You've never told me before, just said 'When you're ready, I'll tell you.'"

Lyon put his spoon down and leaned forwards slightly.

"I think that you are old enough to learn at least some of your history."

Kal put his spoon down and leaned forwards so as to not miss anything.

"Your father was a great warrior whom I worked with for many years. He was called Shal, and he served in the Kingdom of Eldrakal. He married a beautiful woman, Lissiyar, who unfortunately died when you were but a month old. I took over the duty of raising you while your father worked. One day, a traitor to Eldrakal attacked the Palace, where your father worked.  
"The traitor, J'hatakh by name, a sorcerer by nature, forced your father into a position where either he gave J'hatakh the family artifact that he wanted, or to put it in a place where only you could retrieve and use it. He did the latter, then he leapt to his death to stop J'hatakh from using his powers of Magic to force him to retrieve the artifact. I saw him die and so I managed to smuggle you out of the city and to here, to raise you in safety and secrecy, preparing you for the day when you would reclaim what is rightfully yours."

Kal leaned back slightly and frowned.

"What is the 'artifact'?"

Lyon shook his head.

"You will know when you see it. I have told you all that I currently can, and some of what I suspect I should not have told you for another year or two."

Kal nodded.

"When should I try to reclaim it?"

Lyon stared at his food.

"There is an old prophecy that mentions fourteen years. We will leave at full dark during the next new moon, so that none will see the exit from the Valley."

"And then?"

"And then we will see."

.

Kal stared at the vast landscape that unrolled into the distance, lit by the rising sun. Carefully placing his bag by his feet, he turned slowly, drinking in the sight of acres and acres of land, farms, villages and forest stretching in every direction.

"Is all this... Eldrakal?"

"Yes, and much more besides. Let's go."

Kal scooped up his bag and caught up with Lyon, only to stop an instant later, staring into a field.

"What are those?"

Lyon turned to see what Kal was looking at.

"Those are cows. They are kept for their milk and their meat. Their skin can be treated to make a tough but flexible material called leather."

"Cows..." breathed Kal.

Lyon tapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on. We have much distance to travel. and we'll never get anywhere if you stop to gaze at everything."

Kal started walking again, and pointed to his left.

"Are those things pulling the big plow horses?"

"No, Oxen. Larger, stronger, and when they get too old to pull the plow, their meat is tastier than horses. They also require less care than horses."

Kal nodded slowly.

"You told me about them before, but I never knew they looked like that."

Lyon nodded, then waved at the man behind the plow.

"How far's the nearest inn?" he shouted.

The farmer looked at them for a minute.

"The nearest inn be three leagues due South," he shouted back. "But the only Immortals they allow in are slaves."

"What's a slave?" asked Kal.

"I definitely left some large gaps in your education." sighed Lyon as they walked on past the fields.

.

" _That_ is a horse." declared Lyon, pointing to a large animal tethered outside a large building. Kal stared at it.

"So that is what a horse looks like. Is that a saddle on its back?"

Lyon nodded, then touched Kal's shoulder to gain his full attention.

"Although we can camp outside tonight, it would be better if we were to hire a room at the inn. You will have to do the talking, keep it simple. Remember, you are a travelling mercenary seeking work, and I am your slave. Act as if I am not worth noticing, and try to keep calm, and we shouldn't have any trouble."

Kal nodded.

"Strong silent mercenary-type. Got it. I'm ready."

"Then lead the way, master."

Kal gave Lyon a surprised stare, then blushed slightly as he realized that Lyon had slipped into character. Turning, he walked forwards and glanced up at the sign, with its picture and name painted in garish colors.

"'The Chained Gryphon.' Sounds pleasant."

Stepping through the gate, Kal froze, tense with sudden anger. Caught by surprise, Lyon almost knocked him over before spotting what had caused Kal to stop. In the sudden silence, the large shape in the far corner of the yard turned to fix them with a baleful glare.

"Welcome to the Chained Gryphon, Master." said a jovial voice from the doorway of the main building. "Do you find our symbol amazing?"

A short, plump man approached them, smiling genially.

"It took seven men to subdue that monster, and another ten to prevent it flying away. Well, it can't fly now, its primaries have been trimmed, and its claws blunted. Just be sure to stay out of the reach of its beak, and it won't be able to hurt you."

The gryphon transferred its glare to the man, who frowned at it.

"Don't look at me like that, you unnatural beast. Remember who feeds you."

The gryphon snorted and turned away. As it turned, Kal spotted a leather band holding its beak clamped shut.

"Ignore it, sir, and please enter the Inn. How may I serve you?"

Kal pulled himself together and turned to the Innkeeper with a fake smile.

"I would appreciate lodgings for the night for myself and my slave."

The innkeeper frowned at Lyon.

"For you, sir, no problem, but your slave will have to sleep in the stables. Can you guarantee that he is harmless, or do you wish to hire chains?"

Kal quickly glanced at Lyon, who nodded slightly, then shook his head slightly.

"He is harmless. How much for the room?"

"One silver piece, sir, a real bargain! Do you wish to go to the taproom first?"

Kal frowned, trying to remember if he had been told what a taproom was.

"No, thank-you. I have been walking for a long time, and have much distance still to travel. If you can show me to the room, I will trouble you no further."

Lyon bowed and trudged across to the stables, affecting a pose of dejection and abject acceptance while the plump innkeeper herded Kal inside. Stepping inside the stables, he glanced round at the shadowy figures in the corners of the room before shuffling over to the central pillar. Glancing up, he saw several support beams radiating outwards from a small platform. With a slight smile he extended his claws and clambered up to the small platform, where he deposited his bags before scrambling along one of the beams and pushing through the too-thin thatching. Pushing a few strands of straw aside, he watched the main Inn carefully until he caught a glimpse of Kal entering a room. Pulling himself onto the roof, he waited while Kal opened the window, then launched himself over the moonlit courtyard and through the window, landing silently.

"Lyon." whispered Kal. "You saw the Gryphon?"

Lyon looked at him, then realized where the conversation was leading

"No, Kal. Don't even think about it. You are not going to free that Gryphon now. It isn't worth the trouble it will cause!"

Kal strode over to the window, and leaned on the sill, staring at the huddled shape of the being that gave the Inn its name.

"Lyon, you told me about all the sentient immortals. The small fairies, the mysterious elves, the lethal basilisks, the mystical centaurs, the magical unicorns, the flying pegasii, the master-riddler sphinxes, the warrior minotaurs, the majestic dragons, the brave gryphons, the wondrous phoenix's and the guardian catpeople, all capable of human speech or mindspeaking, and all deserving of freedom. I cannot bring myself to leave that Gryphon here!"

Lyon sighed.

"Alright. You've paid for the room?"

At Kal's nod, he smiled.

"I need less sleep than you, so at moonset I'll wake you and we'll free the Gryphon. As if we need to be any more conspicuous than we already are."

With that, Lyon moved back to the window, jumped onto the sill and leapt back over the courtyard to the stable roof.

.

"Wake up."

Kal snapped into total alertness at the whisper. Peering sideways, he spotted a familiar form.

"Lyon, is it moonset?"

Lyon nodded, then silently dropped down to the courtyard, hiding in the shade of a bushy vine. A slight whisper of air announced Kal's descent.

"Where are the bags? We'll need to get away fast."

Lyon nodded towards the now-closed gate.

"Outside. Got all your stuff?"

Kal nodded, then carefully started to creep towards the chained Gryphon. The dark shape stirred, then fixed Kal with a penetrating glare, the head moving slightly as if assessing the possibility of ripping him apart.

"It's alright, I'm a friend. I'll get you free." whispered Kal as he sidled closer to the staple securing the chain that bound the gryphon to the wall. Reaching them, he peered closely, then swore under his breath and started to examine the chain closely.

"Damn, this is the best-quality chain that I've ever seen."

The gryphon made a muffled sound and Kal transferred his attention to the Gryphon's bound beak.

"If you promise to keep quiet, I'll undo the muzzle." he whispered. When the Gryphon nodded, Kal pulled out a dagger and carefully slit the muzzle along the top, using the resultant slack to lift it over the Gryphon's head. The gryphon opened and closed his beak several times, then bent down, shifting slightly to allow a clear view of the chain attached to its hind leg. Kal unsheathed his sword.

"Kal, what are you doing?" whispered Lyon frantically as Kal raised the sword, then slashed downwards with all of his strength. The air _shrieked_ as the Crystal blade sliced through it, and the chain fragmented with the sound of a thunderstrike. Kal started at the unanticipated noise, stared briefly in shock at the now-silent blade, then turned and sprinted towards the locked gate as a sudden glare in a thick window announced that the innkeeper had woken up and lit a lantern. Pausing by the gate, Kal slashed at the gates twice, with the sword producing an unearthly howling each time. The gates trembled, then the middle section fell down, leaving a triangular gap almost seven feet high and eight feet wide. Kal moved to one side and turned as the Innkeeper appeared in the doorway, only to be immediately sent flying back inside by a powerful flying double-kick from Lyon.

"Come on, Gryphon. Let's go!" Kal shouted, suiting action to words by darting through the wrecked gates. A sudden thundering of taloned paws behind him marked the arrival of the Gryphon as Kal grabbed two of the bags and ran towards the forest.

"Where are we going?" called the Gryphon.

"As far away as possible." replied Lyon, who had grabbed the other bag and had caught up with them.

"Do you two even have a _plan_?" shouted the Gryphon, leaping a fallen tree.

"Yes," replied Kal, "Run like hell and don't get caught!"

"Excellent plan." panted the Gryphon as they crashed through the underbrush that marked the real boundary of the forest. "I _like_ it."

Behind them, a sudden barrage of shouts marked the Innkeeper's realization that his unwilling mascot had escaped.

.

"'Shouldn't have any trouble,' I said." Lyon muttered to himself as he settled down in a small clearing surrounded by thorny bushes. "And what happens, we free a Gryphon and run for three days with hunters on our trail, and spend another two days trying to find out where in Eldarak's name we are."

"Hey." rumbled the Gryphon from where he was fanning the small pile of kinder that Kal was trying to light. "I'm grateful for what you did. You saved my life, and helped me get some much needed exercise. Why are you complaining?"

"Because, Skystorm, Kal and I are on a family quest, and this is an unanticipated diversion."

"No kidding." rumbled Skystorm. "How come you never mentioned this quest before?"

Kal looked up from the small fire burning in front of him.

"Possibly because it is hard to run and chat at the same time."

Skystorm dropped his beak in amusement.

"It don't matter. Hey, I'm molting!"

Lyon raised a brow. "Is that bad?"

"No way! It means that in a week or so, I'll be able to fly again. Able to taste the skies once more! I owe you two, and I doubt if I can ever repay you. Your quest is also mine. What are you after?"

"Information, for a start." said Kal. "My education seems to have some rather large holes in it, for instance, everything that has happened in the last fifteen years."

The Gryphon stared at him, then whistled.

"Boy, you don't know anything about the reign of Regent J'hatakh, or his search for the lost heir Kallakhan who was stolen by the so-called Evil Immortal?"

Kal and Lyon swapped glances.

"What do you know about it?" asked Lyon.

The gryphon sighed and looked away from where Kal was setting up a frame for a stewpot.

"I know very little, just that after J'hatakh took the throne, the Immortals suddenly found themselves turned into second-class citizens and enslaved."

Lyon nodded slowly. "Anything else?"

The gryphon frowned slightly.

"Only that once every other year he holds a ceremony where anyone who thinks that he's the lost heir is allowed to try to claim the ghost crown. According to J'hatakh, he magicked the crown to stop any impostors from trying to con their way onto the throne. There were three takers last year, and they all failed miserably."

Lyon nodded.

"I can believe it. It is good to know..."

"Know what?" asked the gryphon curiously.

Lyon thought furiously before answering.

"That the Regent is taking at least some of his duties seriously."

Skystorm snorted in disdain.

"Ha! Rumor among the Immortals is that he'll somehow claim the crown for himself once it has been reclaimed by the lost heir. According to a Palace slave, he spends every full-moon night standing over the ghost crown muttering spells and sketching mystical runes in the air above it, trying to get it to solidify."

Kal looked up from the stewpot he was tending.

"Fifteen years and he hasn't cracked it? Must be a mighty powerful spell."

Skystorm nodded, then stood up.

"Yeah, it must be. Listen, I'm going hunting for my lunch, I prefer my meat raw and with the hide attached. I'll whistle before I return."

.

"Is Kal the Heir?"

Lyon started and glanced reflexively at Skystorm, who was lying near the fire then over to where Kal was sleeping, wrapped in his cloak.

"What makes you say that?"

Skystorm smiled, not shifting his gaze from the embers of the fire glowing softly in the pre-dawn darkness.

"I've been working it out for the last week. His name, possibly short for Kallakhan, the fact that he's been out of circulation for almost his entire life, his appearance, he looks amazingly like Shalakhan did. Your appearance, the fact that Shalakhan was referred to as the LionKing, and you are a Catman. If he isn't the Heir, it's one heck of a coincidence."

"It _is_ a coincidence."

Skystorm snorted with laughter at Lyon's terse reply.

"Lyon, do you know what the Gryphon's Gift is? If I exert myself I can produce what Mortal mages call the Aura of Truth, a light in which no falsehood may be spoken by anyone, not even the Gryphon casting it. If I were to cast the Aura, would you still say it was a coincidence?"

Lyon shook his head slowly.

"I thought so. Lyon, I owe my past fortnight's freedom to you and Kal, but it is obvious that you have not planned ahead properly. J'hatakh is entrenched, with a pure-Mortal army at his beck and call. You will need an army, one composed of Mortal _and_ Immortal, and you will need to build it fast. You need Flying Immortals to scout ahead and attack from the skies, preventing the Mortal Mages under J'hatakh's command from using their Skychariots to attack you, you will need Water Immortals to safeguard the rivers, lakes and ocean in order to ensure you can advance and retreat safely. You'll want Fire Immortals like the Fyrebird, Warrior Immortals like the Minotours and the Centaurs, Healers like the Unicorns.  
"You cannot just grab the Crown and rely on the natives swinging to your side, because it won't happen that way. I've been around for six centuries, my friend, and I learned from the best Centaur strategist ever. There's an old Gryphon Ayrie four hours flight from here due west, I don't know if the Pegasii still share it, but there used to be a Dragon there. If it's still there, we may be able to swing a few Dragons onto our side as well, and the Dragons are all mages far beyond J'hatakh."

Lyon nodded slowly.

"You make sense, my friend, when this is over I may search out the centaur that taught you and learn from him. Can you fly yet?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Skystorm. "I've been testing out my wings for several days, and not only can I fly there, I can take both of you with me! I won't carry the packs, but we shouldn't need them for the journey, and I can always return with other Gryphons to retrieve your stuff."

.

"This is not what I thought you meant when you said that you could take us both with you!" shouted Lyon.

Skystorm glanced down at the Lionman dangling from his front talons.

"Just be quiet and hang on down there!" he replied above the sound of the rushing air and his wingbeats. "Kal, you okay?"

Kal released his left hand from the rear-left leg long enough to send a thumbs-up before grabbing hold again. Skystorm looked forwards, and suddenly banked to dodge a tree that rose above the forest canopy. A minute later the canopy gave way to a large lake. Skystorm started to circle above it.

"What are you doing?" shouted Lyon.

"Thermal!" replied Skystorm, rising gently. "It'll give me enough height to do a power-glide to the Ayrie. It's over there, in the shade of the mountain with the hawk-cliff! Hawk Ayrie!"

Lyon and Kal glanced around before Kal spotted it. The mountain rose above the canopy, its sides barren except for the occasional patch of greenery clinging to the smooth rock. The south side of it was a sheer cliff, which nature and unknown artists had shaped into a stylized representation of a hawk in flight. Just below the level of the jutting beak, several dots glided in lazy circles.

"Over there, another five minutes and we'll be there!" called Skystorm as he banked towards the dots and started to pump his wings. "I hope that they'll remember me, it's been a full century since I last visited, I was on my way back when I got caught and chained."

There was a long silence before Kal spoke up.

"Why did you stay away so long?"

"Unlucky in love." replied Skystorm, "The Gryphon I wanted to become my Mate died in a thunderstorm, a downdraft caught her, and she couldn't escape."

"I'm sorry." said Kal. Skystorm glided for a second before replying.

"It's been a hundred years, kid. Pain fades over time."

The landscape unrolled beneath them as Skystorm powered through the air.

"Incoming, rear-left low!" shouted Kal. Skystorm twisted slightly to look.

"A Gryphon and a Pegasii with rider." he announced. An instant later, an arrow whistled past.

"They're shooting at us!" yelled Lyon. "Get above the Pegasii and drop me, I'll take them out while you go to ground and escape!"

"It's suicide!" shouted Kal. "You hit the Pegasii and it'll shake you off, kill it and you'll die anyway!"

"They're friendly!" interrupted Skystorm.

Lyon froze and looked up at Skystorm quizzically.

"Again, and this time, point out the trail?"

Skystorm banked slightly as the Pegasii and Gryphon clawed their way up through the air.

"It was a whistling arrow, designed to attract attention. They're going to escort us into the Ayrie, where we can... oh, I forgot about that."

"What?" asked Lyon and Kal together.

"Landing." muttered Skystorm. Kal swore under his breath, then turned slightly to speak to the Gryphon that was drawing level with them.

"We've got a problem." he shouted. "We'll need either a large haystack for Skystorm to drop us onto, or two Unicorns or equivalent willing to run in a straight line while Skystorm lowers us onto their backs!"

The Gryphon looked across at them, nodded and surged forwards, its unencumbered form racing towards the distant Ayrie. The Pegasii and rider on the other side regarded Skystorm's load curiously.

"Just out of interest," the Pegasii's rider asked, "How did you manage to grab them like that in the first place?"

Skystorm glanced over at the rider and shrugged, a very difficult action to achieve when flying.

"Combination of high ridge, updraft, strong wings and an inability to realize that it was impossible."

The human rider laughed as the Pegasii snickered.

"Just like a Gryphon. Are you truly a Catman?"

Lyon nodded.

"We've got a lone Catwoman at the Ayrie. She's rather quiet and angry about something, no-one knows what, has been for over a decade and a half. I'd appreciate it if you'd talk to her, try to get her back to something near sociable again."

"I'd be glad to." said Lyon. "What's her name?"

"Sharaal."

Lyon jolted as if he'd been hit by lightning.

"You know her?" inquired Kal.

Lyon stared at the Rider.

"Silver fur, black eyes, black stripes on shins and forearms?" he asked. The rider nodded in suprise.

"Yes." said Lyon, his voice flat with suppressed emotion as Skystorm flattened his dive in preparation for a landing. "I know her. We were once to be Lifemates."

.

"Who is Sharaal?" asked Kal as he climbed down off the back of the Unicorn that had volunteered to act as a moving platform for Skystorm to drop him onto. Lyon looked at him, then glanced over at a cave into which a silver-haired figure had vanished.

"We lived together for many decades, and we loved each other, or so I believed. One day, on a Hunt for a bonding-stone to consolidate our relationship, I was Called by the... by the Artifact that your Father had just received, and I travelled to his side. I sent letter after letter to her, begging her to join me at your Father's house, but she never responded."

Kal opened his mouth to ask another question, then noted Lyon's closed expression and decided against asking. Instead, he turned and walked over towards the cave in which the silver figure lurked. As he got closer, he noted a heavy curtain tied open in the cave mouth, and furniture against the sides of the deep cave. Stopping outside the cave, he coughed politely.

"What do you want?"

Raising an eyebrow at the snarled question, Kal replied.

"To talk."

"About?"

"My uncle."

The figure strode forwards into the light and confronted him.

"And why should I care about your uncle? You are the first Outsider Mortal I've met in half a century, so unless you're older than you look, I don't know him."

As she turned to go back into her den, Kal spoke up.

"He's an Immortal called Lyon. You and he were to be Lifemated."

Sharaal spun round and glared at him.

"Don't you mention that name to me again! He left me, and sent me a letter to _explain_! He claimed that he had been Called, whatever that meant! Ha! Called to a younger, slimmer Catwoman no doubt!"

"What else did he write?"

Sharaal spat.

"Don't know, don't care. I only read the first two sentences."

"May I see the letter?"

Sharaal stared at him, then spun and opened a chest. Reaching into it, she grabbed one of four rolls of parchment and thrust it at him.

"Here. Read it for yourself. Still don't know why I didn't burn them!"

Kal sat down against the cliff face, unrolled the scroll and started to read the letter out loud.

" _From Lyon Catman, Companion of Shalakhan XII. To Sharaal Catwoman of Hawk Ayrie._

_"Sharaal. By now, you are wondering why I have been gone for so long, and I apologize for my absence. I do have an explanation, I have been Called. I have thus gone to serve the newly appointed King Shalakhan XII. The Crystal Crown has Called me to act as his Companion and Mentor, but I do not wish to be alone in this. I therefore ask you to come to the City Of Crystal, where I am currently residing in the Crystal Palace. It is my hope that you will find it in you to accept and come to help me in my duties. I await your reply._

_"By my hand and under my seal, Lyon Catman of the Hidden Valley_."

Kal carefully rolled the scroll up and placed it by his side.

"Kid, I... Can you read this for me?"

Kal looked up from his stunned contemplation of the scroll to see Sharaal crouched down in front of him, holding out a second scroll.

"Why?" he asked.

Sharaal sat down in front of him and wiped away a lone tear from her cheek.

"I can't read human-style writing well, I never learned, it takes me ages to work out each word. I think I need to know what _really_ happened, not what I thought was happening."

Kal nodded slowly, then reached forwards and took the second scroll. Breaking the wax seal he unrolled it and started to read.

" _From Lyon Catman, Companion of Shalakhan XII. To Sharaal Catwoman of Hawk Ayrie._

_"Sharaal, I have waited six months for your reply to my last letter, but there has been none. I therefore repeat my offer. Please come to Crystal City and join me. I cannot leave the City, I must remain here to keep Shalakhan from doing anything irrational or overly-impulsive, even for a Mortal he is over-energetic. Fortunately his new wife, Lissiyar is having a moderating influence on him. The Bonding-stone I found before I was Called is waiting ready for the ceremony. Please hurry, I miss you._

_"By my hand and under my seal, Lyon Catman of the Crystal Palace_."

Sharaal wiped several more tears from her cheeks and then handed a third scroll to Kal, who took it wordlessly and opened it.

" _From Lyon Catman, Companion of Shalakhan XII. To Sharaal Catwoman of Hawk Ayrie._

_"Sharaal, it has been eight months since I last wrote to you, and I have still received no reply from you. Please contact me. I need you more urgently than you could know. Shalakhan's wife, Lissiyar, has died in childbirth, and Shalakhan is despondent. You are far better than I at knowing what others are thinking and feeling, I need you to help me as I do not think that I can aid Shalakhan properly by myself, as well as take care of his son, Kallakhan. Please come soon. I need you._

_"By my hand and under my seal, Lyon Catman of the Crystal Palace_."

Kal stopped reading and turned to face Sharaal, who was silently weeping. Before he could say anything she passed him another scroll.

"This... this was his last letter to me." she managed to say. "I need to know..."

Kal nodded and carefully opened the scroll.

" _From Lyon Catman, Companion of Shalakhan XII. To Sharaal Catwoman of Hawk Ayrie._

_"Sharaal, It has been a half year since my last letter to you, and you have still to contact me. I must therefore conclude that you no longer wish to undergo the Bonding Ceremony with me, and that you have found another, with whom you wish to be. I understand. I wish you luck with your new relationship, but I will always hold you in my heart. In one month, I am going to return to my hidden valley, to stay with my charge, Prince Kallakhan, until he reaches maturity and can fulfill his destiny of reclaiming the Crystal Crown. I will probably never see you again, so I bid you farewell, you who were and will always be my beloved._

_"By my hand and under my seal, Lyon Catman of the Hidden Valley_."

The scroll dropped nervelessly from Kal's hands as he stared into the blue sky. Beside him, Sharaal sat in silent sadness, tears falling unnoticed to the dust as they sat silently until the sun dipped below the horizon.

"My name is Kallakhan, son of King Shalakhan." he whispered to himself in shocked realization. "The Artifact that Lyon told me about is the Crystal Crown. I am the rightful Heir to the Crystal Throne."

He stood up.

"Sharaal, I, thank you. You have given me answers that I didn't even know I wanted."

Sharaal stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to Lyon. Now I know, I need to take the lead and reclaim that which should be mine."

Sharaal gave a lop-sided smile as she gathered up the four scrolls and replaced them in the chest.

"I'll come with you. I think that I need to reclaim something as well."


	3. Chapter 3

" _And what will happen after the Crown is placed Beyond?"_

" _It will remain Beyond until the Lost Prince returns to claim it."_

" _And how will we know the Prince?"_

" _We will not, for he will not know himself until the year that he reclaims the Crown. Then he will no longer be the Lost Prince, but the King."_

" _Will he come alone?"_

" _No. He will come with those pure of heart, and will prove himself by his willingness to abandon all he could be to save another."_

_-Extract from the Book of the Conversation With The Twelve Mystic Sages and the Wise Traveler._

.

"Prince Kallakhan."

Kal looked up at the centaur who was approaching him, and respectfully rose.

"Yes, Leader Goldmane?"

"The council has made its decision regarding your request."

Kal closed his eyes at the flatness of Goldmane's sentence.

"You decided to withhold your sentries and rangers."

Goldmane sighed and looked at the ground.

"Prince Kallakhan, you must understand. Regent J'Hatakh is too powerful. His magics are too strong, his mortal armies too numerous, his tame mages devoted to him. His Sky-Chariots provide him with a sky advantage that not even the gryphons can match. We cannot move against him and succeed, no matter who leads us. We of Hawk Ayrie will not stand in your way, but we cannot stand against J'hatakh either."

Kal lifted a hand to cut off the explanation.

"I understand, Leader Goldmane. If Lyon, Skystorm and myself are the only ones brave enough, so be it."

"I'm coming as well."

Both Goldmane and Kal turned and saw Sharaal and Lyon approaching, each fully armed and carrying a large backpack. Lyon absently stroked the central section of his retracted twinblade while Sharaal spun a long metal staff with flared end-weights in one hand.

"Sharaal..." Goldmane started to say, then stopped as she pointed the staff at him and hit a small button. Four metal claws sprang out of each end of the staff.

"I said that I was going, Goldmane. You will not stop me."

"But you are our most powerful mage! How will we survive without you?"

"Same way that you had planned before, Goldmane, by hiding, not making a sound and letting the world pass by. Kal, your stuff's outside my cave, along with some special armor that Lyon had Skystorm retrieve from the valley. Let's get going before anything else happens."

.

Skystorm glided above them in the sky, and Kal looked up at him, feeling the strange yet familiar weight of the helmet as he did so. Looking back down to the trail, he shifted his pack into a more comfortable position, absently touching the sword belted to his hip as he did so.

"Something on your mind?"

"Aside from the fact that four of us have to defeat the entire armies of Eldrakal, as well as every mage in J'hatakh's employ, no. It's only what, five thousand to one against us? No problem."

Sharaal snorted.

"Kal, Lyon's corrupted your sense of humor. You're far too young to be that cynical."

Lyon glanced over at Sharaal.

"Beloved, we'll need you once we hit scrying-distance of Crystal City."

Kal stopped in his tracks and looked closely at Sharaal and Lyon.

"I'm missing something here, aren't I?"

Lyon nodded and motioned for Kal to catch up.

"It is a peculiarity of my species that the males cannot be touched by any form of Magic or OtherGift while we so wish it while all females are mages equal to human Master-level mages, or stronger. Sharaal is a Master-Sorcerer-Adept, the highest ranking you humans have and the equal or more of J'hatakh in pure magical power."

"Indeed. My skills lie mainly in illusion, shielding and pure-magic attack, but I have passable skills in most branches of magic. The ones I refuse to do are the resurrection and body-possession disciplines."

Kal gave Sharaal a searching look, then turned to Lyon.

"Anything else I should know about?"

Lyon grinned, his pointed teeth sparkling in the sunlight.

"Only that the males are bestowed with one other minor ability."

As he said it, his form wavered slightly and he dropped to all fours, reforming in the shape of a black-maned Lion.

"This is my othershape. Each of the males can turn into a type of true-cat."

His form wavered back into its true shape again and he continued talking.

"In all the history of the cat-beings, there has been only one male mage, the Eighth of Twelve, Garrarrl, one of the creators of the Crystal Crown. It is said that his spirit resides in one of the twelve pillars of the Throne Room, sleeping until called upon by the one who will be, yet is willing to be not."

"Willing to be not what?"

Lyon shrugged.

"I don't know, that's all the legend said."

Kal frowned, then stopped and started to signal to Skystorm, who circled before diving in a steep swoop behind a line of bushes.

"What happened?" asked Sharaal as they started to run towards the bushes.

Lyon was grinning widely.

"Kal spotted our evening meal, beloved, Skystorm's killed it, now we cook it, eat it and make camp."

.

Kal relaxed against his pack and sighed with contentment.

"That deer was cooked to perfection." sighed Sharaal.

Skystorm looked up from the remnants of his meal, the forequarters and head of the deer, and quickly licked the blood off his beak.

"I prefer it raw, but you lot don't have the same tastes."

"For which we are profoundly grateful." muttered Lyon. Kal grinned, then rested against his pack, pulling his cloak round himself.

"Lyon, you know the layout of the palace. How can we get in?"

Lyon frowned.

"I don't know. Over the wall, I guess."

"No secret passages?" asked Sharaal, surprised.

"No. Any underground passage, no matter how well hidden, can be usually detected by someone with OtherSight or Earth-Link. The closest thing to a secret passage are sections of crystal wall that slowly curve outwards, allowing people to drop down and slide down to ground level. There are two of these on each side, a grand total of twelve, but they're designed to be one-way only."

"I can fly you in one at a time." offered Skystorm.

Kal winced, remembering the last time they had flown.

"Let's think about that later." said Lyon.

For several long minutes, they lay silent under the stars, then Kal spoke up.

"Lyon, how many of the Council will have gone over to J'hatakh?"

Lyon frowned.

"Commander Kathleen of Tarragon will at worst remain neutral, but J'hatakh knows that she could be a serious threat, so he would have dealt with her. The Thiefmaster is an unknown quantity, but he is not that keen on mages. Seneschal Jonothan is old and very undiplomatic, it is unlikely that he is still alive. The other Councillors are minimal threats to J'hatakh, and will probably have been cowed by him. I would imagine that he's got full control of the Guards and the Wizarding Orders, so he's pretty secure."

"There _is_ a passage."

Kal wasn't even aware of rising, one second he was lying down, the next he had somehow covered a distance of seven paces and his sword was in his hand as he hurtled towards the cloaked figure that had materialized beside the fire. Just before he could engage the shadowy person, Lyon pulled him back.

"Thiefmaster. How did you find us."

"It wasn't easy, but we did." said a hoarse voice from behind them. Lyon and Kal turned to see a green-gowned woman being lifted from behind a bush by two large, green-clad masked men. Her face was marred by a series of scars, and her left eye was covered by an eye-patch. As the two men carried her forward, Kal realized that her legs ended at the knee, and she was missing the first finger of each hand.

"Commander Kathleen!" gasped Lyon, horror engraved on his face. "What happened?"

"J'hatakh." she replied, her cracked voice filled with a hate colder than ice.

The Thiefmaster walked over to beside her and held one of her maimed hands tenderly before turning to face Lyon and Kal.

"Lyon, it has been a long time. Is this him?"

Without waiting for a reply, he sank down to one knee, as did the others who had appeared from the forest. Only Kal, Lyon, Sharaal and the two holding Kathleen remained standing.

"Prince Kallakhan of Eldrakal, I vow my services to you, and will help in any way I can."

"Well said." croaked Kathleen. "Kal, we've been waiting years for you, my husband and I. We knew that Lyon would bring you when it was time, so after Thiefmaster rescued me from J'hatakh's clutches, he brought me here, where I could heal. Together, we made plans and set them in motion. We can get you through the city and into the castle, even that overgrown feather cushion over there, but we cannot do much more than that. It took all our cunning to even get that far."

Lyon nodded slowly.

"I understand, Kathleen. Where is the crown now?"

Kathleen snorted with amusement.

"Right in the middle of the Throne Room, of course. It drifted there over the course of a moon, scaring the hell out of everyone, and then stopped, at shoulder-height, in the exact center of the hall."

Lyon nodded slowly.

"As soon as Kal reaches out to take it, it will be solid, and he will be King. That reminds me. Thiefmaster, I need your medallion."

The dark man nodded and silently handed the golden circle over to Lyon, who passed it to Sharaal.

"Beloved, you know the spell?"

Sharaal nodded and stood in front of Kal, lifting the medallion in cupped hands so that the MindGift side faced Lyon.

"Shal said that it was..."

"I know. Let me concentrate."

In Sharaal's hands, the medallion started to glow, a yellow radiance spilling out over the clearing before starting to focus. Kal had just enough time to realize that the light was engulfing him alone before it overwhelmed him.

.

Kal's eyes slammed open and he sat up.

"Do you feel alright?"

Kal nodded slowly, then reached out and grabbed Lyon's arm, allowing the immortal to lift him up to his feet.

"I didn't expect it to affect you so much, but I should have. Do you want your cloak?"

Kal absently reached out for it, and it flew into his hand. He dropped it in shock, and Lyon smiled.

"Good, you have MindLifting, the power to move things with thought. You should also have the power of Lightning. You see the firepit there? See if you can call a small spark of lightning to rekindle it."

Kal nodded and moved towards the pit. Stopping, he reached inside for the strange power he felt flowing through him, and pulled it into his hand. Pointing at the pit, he pushed it as hard as he could.

It was a bit too hard.

The bolt, a full pace wide, slammed straight through the firepit, carving a huge crater in the ground, and fusing the resultant circular pit into a bowl of glass twelve paces across. Kal and Lyon stood in shocked silence while everyone else leapt to their feet, roused by the explosion and the falling earth, then Lyon coughed slightly.

"Well, that's definitely a good sign."

Kal looked at him, his face white.

"If you can do that when dazed and not fully awake, you'll be unstoppable when you're angry."

.

As they entered the new camp, Kathleen waved at them from the chair on which she sat. Beside her the Thiefmaster straightened up and stepped behind her, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. Lyon stopped dead in his tracks and stared.

"What happened, Lyon, Mortal got your tongue?" she teased.

"I think I just realized who your husband is." said Lyon.

Kathleen looked up at the Thiefmaster, who returned her tender glance.

"Yes, he is, Lyon. We respected each other as adversaries during the days we were on the council, and we knew that we could trust each other. When J'hatakh tortured me, he risked his life to get me out, and get me to his best healer. We've been together ever since."

"The story is more complex than that, but essentially true." said Thiefmaster. "Kathleen is the only living being who knows what I look like under the mask, previously only King Shalakhan had that privilege, and once you are King, Kal, you will know also."

"Has he got the powers predicted?" asked Kathleen.

"Yes, MindLifting and Lightning, more powerful than I've ever seen before. Have you decoded the prophecy yet?"

"Yes, the encrypted message was very clear. 'On the third day after the prince meets the life-bonded enemies, the attack must commence'. We go in just after midnight tonight."

Lyon raised an eyebrow.

"We?"

"'Six go on twelve feet.' remember? I have none, Skystorm has four. Thiefmaster and I have been practicing this ever since we realized that a Gryphon may be involved, and _that_ was a decade ago when we went through the Crystal's prophecy again. Together, we're unstoppable."

Kal nodded.

"I accept your help, and promise that once we succeed, you will regain your old positions on the council."

Kathleen burst out laughing and Thiefmaster spoke.

"A Thiefmaster and his bride, the Guardswoman, both on the council. The universe has a truly strange sense of humor. One more thing."

He threw a sealed scroll at Kal, who snagged to out of the air one-handed.

"When we _liberated_ the tablet containing the Crystal's prophecy, we found this underneath. It has your name on it, Kal. Read it in private."

Kal nodded again and moved into the forest, fighting down the awe that threatened to overwhelm him. Sitting down, he opened the scroll and started reading.

_To King-to-be Kallakhan, future ruler of Eldrakal, from King Shalakhan, past ruler of Eldrakal, written by my own hand, under my seal._

_My beloved son._

_If you wish to know how I knew to write to you, the answer is simple, the Oracle told me to, and what I needed to know before writing it._

_You know what I do not at the time of my writing this, who the traitor is, and you are now moving against him or her with help. I am told that you have, or will have, five companions with you, Lyon amongst them, and they will help you retrieve the crown, but it does not end there. Once you have the crown, there is one more thing you have to do. Stand in the center of the hall and you will see a small slit in the rock, exactly in the middle of an engraved circle. Place the entire blade of the sword in the slit, the crown round the edge of the stone and recite the twelve names and races of the Mages. Lyon will tell them to you. I do not know what will happen after you recite the names, but the Oracle has assured me that you will rule for many years if you manage this._

_I only wish I could see you as you read this, be with you as you embark on this adventure, watch as you ascend to your rightful place on the Crystal Throne, but I cannot._

_I wish you well, my son. Reclaim your heritage and avenge me, but remember that I love you, and I always will._

_Farewell, King Kallakhan._

_Live long and well, my son._

Kal slowly rolled the scroll up, holding it tightly as he bent his head and felt tears trickle down his cheeks.

"I love you too, dad." he whispered.

.

The small postern gate opened slightly and the five shadows, one oddly humpbacked, another long and low, on all fours, silently entered. One shadow pointed, then spun a small staff that it held, letting two blades extend from it. The second figure started to draw a sword, then stopped and pulled out a couple of daggers instead. The third brandished a clawed staff while the fourth flexed its talons, gouging holes in the path. The final figure extended four arms, the forward two holding two short jagged daggers, the rear arms holding a short staff with a sharp blade fixed onto the end.

"Which way?" whispered Kal.

Thiefmaster moved forward, turning slightly so that Kathleen, who was strapped to his back, could look round.

"Left."

Kal started to move forward, but Lyon pushed past him and started to stalk silently forward, peering round each corner. Sharaal closed her eyes briefly, and her staff started to glow with a pale silver light. Holding it up so that the others could see where they were going, she followed Lyon. Kal exchanged glances with Skystorm, Thiefmaster and Kathleen, then moved forward, with Thiefmaster behind him, allowing Kathleen to check that they were not being followed. Barely fifty paces on, Lyon paused at a plain pillar and carefully stroked a small crack in its surface, his claw triggering a hidden mechanism. With no noise at all, the pillar rotated, revealing a doorway through which all the infiltrators passed, before the pillar rotated again, closing the door as if it had never existed.

.

The murmuring noise increased as they headed towards the throne room, and Lyon motioned the others to be silent. Stopping, he touched a stone and pulled it towards him, opening a hole about the size of his finger. Placing his eye to the hole, he stared, then motioned for Kal to take a look. Moving with the stealth that Lyon had taught him, Kal moved to the hole, closed one eye and peered through the hole. The circular room beyond was huge, over a hundred paces wide and supported by pillars of pure crystal. To Kal's left was a throne, just visible from the peephole, it was also composed of a single crystal and shimmered in the candlelight. All these details were absorbed in a single breath, then Kal focused on the center of the room, where a sallow-faced fat man stood, waving his arms over a semi-translucent circlet adorned with twelve spikes. The man's voice echoed endlessly round the hall as he conjured up mists and bolts of power that danced round and through the circlet without affecting it. Between each pair of pillars stood a mage, feeding the central man with power, and each mage was flanked by two pairs of guards, dressed in the uniform of the mercenaries who had helped to kill King Shallakhan. Kal pulled back from the eyehole and allowed Lyon to close it.

"The odds are not good, there must be nigh-on fifty soldiers, a dozen mages and J'hatakh himself." whispered Kal.

"Leave the mages to me." Sharaal stated. "They are almost drained, and unable to shield. Only J'hatakh is a magical threat."

Kal nodded, then turned to the others.

"Thiefmaster, Kathleen, Skystorm..."

"We know." said Kathleen. "And we want to. Thiefmaster and myself will protect Sharaal. Skystorm, there's enough room in there for you to fly, so do so as soon as possible. Lyon, get Kal to the crown at all costs."

"Don't I get a say?" asked Kal, slightly amused.

"No. Not now, I'm the tactician. Kal and Lyon first, Sharaal and us second, Skystorm takes the rear. Kal, get your sword ready."

Kal nodded and slid his daggers into their sheaths before reverently drawing the Crystal blade. Lyon moved to one side and placed his paw on a lever protruding from the wall, looking round at the party.

"Ready?"

"Ready!" came the whispered chorus.

Lyon pulled the lever.

.

J'hatakh lowered his hands as the magical energy flowing into him faltered. Frowning at the crown, he reached out for it with both hands, the flesh one and the metal one, but the Crown remained translucent, and insubstantial. Clenching his fists, he yelled in anger, and the wall directly opposite him fell straight down into the ground.

.

Lyon and Kal leapt out through the open door, swinging their weapons with the skill of years of practice. Kal cleanly beheaded the mage as he leapt past, while Lyon spun his Twinblade in a lethal spiral that killed the guards flanking the deceased mage. The mercenaries, however, recovered instantly and rushed forwards with a roar of rage, twenty moving to surround J'hatakh in a ring of steel, another twenty moving in on the interlopers while the final four darted through the doorway to summon help.

The world narrowed round Kal, and he felt himself drifting forwards, encased in armour, Lightning and the song of the sword. Without looking, he knew that Sharaal had unleashed a spell that had disabled the other mages and was blocking J'hatakh's magic, Thiefmaster and Kathleen were spinning like a carousel of destruction, fighting in pure harmony like a single being, and Skystorm was clawing his way to the apex of the room, from where he could attack where required. Seeing a guard moving towards him, he allowed his sword to rise and block the strike, using the momentum and his power of MindLifting to power a spin that sliced diagonally through the air, taking the first guard at knee level, the second across the waist and the third at the neck. Ignoring the falling bodies, he moved forwards, drawn to the Crown like steel to a lodestone.

.

Lyon fought with all his skill, working his way towards the crown, and towards J'hatakh and his guards, who were retreating with their swords held high in defense against Skystorm. Amidst the guards, flashes of light and claps of thunder mirrored those behind him, marking the contest between J'hatakh and Sharaal. Ducking under a longsword, Lyon disemboweled the attacker with a savage slash, then spun upwards to kill two guards moving towards Kal, who, leaving a trail of crackling Lightning, was fighting with a skill and power that he had seen before only in Shallakhan. Spotting the crown, Lyon lunged forwards, driving back the remaining mercenaries and allowing Kal to reach out as if in a dream and grab the floating circlet.

.

Kal reached out slowly for the translucent crown, feeling the sword yearning to be reunited with it. His fingers closed on the translucent circlet, and encountered resistance as it solidified in his grasp. He looked down, and saw the slit and circle engraved in the rock at his feet. Kneeling down, he placed the crown in the circle, then pushed the sword into the slit until the hilt prevented it from going any further. Once down, both the crown and sword started to glow, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Taking a deep breath he started.

"Tarallan the Wise, Human Mage. Skysinger the Pure, Gryphon Mage."

Lyon spun and whirled like a dervish, his blades flickering through the attackers defenses as he fought to protect his charge.

"Melissa the Healer, Human Mage. T'llon the Steadfast, Basilisk Mage."

Thiefmaster spun, his daggers flashing upwards, cutting open the throats of the two guards facing him. Kathleen parried an incoming blow with her short pike, and returned it, cleaving her opponent from shoulder to waist.

"Leftar the Mighty, Human Mage. Stormbringer the Seer, Minotaur Mage."

Skystorm noticed the pillars start to glow, one for each name spoken, but his attention was on the enemies below. Diving, he slammed down onto a group of guards trying to reach Kal, using his claws and beak to take them down permanently.

"Reltarn the Old, Human Mage. Garrarrl the True, Catman Mage"

Sharaal spun her staff in a complex pattern, shouting an invocation in the language of magic. Unleashing the attack, she altered her stance and began a new spell dance, spinning with the power of her magery.

"Mak the Light, Human mage. F'yre the Reborn, Pheonix Mage."

J'hatakh fended off the magical attack, sweating as the nearest of his guards collapsed, felled by forces they could not see. Ignoring all distractions, he launched a counterspell of his own against the mage who opposed him.

"Eldarak the Leader, Human Mage."

Lyon saw the mercenary loom over the kneeling form of Kal, sword raised. He reacted instinctively as the sword stabbed down.

"Silverwing the Prophet, Dragon Mage!"

Light flared round the Crown, and the walls of the room vanished, leaving the floor, roof and pillars suspended in a starry sky. Figures coalesced and the twelve mages, each over ten times larger than life, stared into the room.

**"Hold!"**

The few soldiers still alive collapsed as the command rolled through the room, and Kal straightened, looking round at the twelve Mages he had summoned.

**"Who summons us after all these years?"**

Kal bowed.

"My name is Kalakhan, son of King Shallakhan, who was slain by J'hatakh the Mage. I summoned you to ask for your aid."

The largest human Mage stared at him, one giant hand stroking his beard.

**"Yes, Mortal. I see my blood in thee, thou art of the true line of Kings."**

Kal started to answer and turned pale, dropping to one knee next to Lyon. Moving fast, he shed his armour and ripped off his tunic, trying to stem the flow of blood from the wound that Lyon had taken to save his charge. Kal looked up, and met the shocked gaze of Sharaal.

"Sharaal! Help me!"

Sharaal dropped down beside them, looked at Lyon, and shook her head.

"I, I can't, there's too much damage, and I've got no magic left!"

As she bent over, crying, Kal rose to his feet, turning to face the Eighth Mage.

"Garrarrl, please help!"

Garrarrl looked over to the biggest Mage.

**"I follow thy lead, Eldrakal."**

Eldrakal nodded and regarded Kal.

**"I can grant thee only one wish, Kalakhan, son of Shallakhan. The rule of the kingdom of Eldrakal, or the saving of the life of Lyon Catman of the Hidden Valley. Choose now."**

Kal stood proud.

"I cannot take the Crown if it means the death of my friend. Heal Lyon, and ensure that the Crown goes to one who will rule wisely."

Eldrakal smiled, his eyes softening.

**"And so the prophecy can be fulfilled, my brethren. Alone, I can only heal Lyon of the Valley, but I ask thee to join thine power with mine."**

The light emanating from each figure started to intensify, and reach out, surrounding the room in a ring of light. Kal squinted against it, then had to close his eyes as it intensified. Eldrakal's voice thundered out again.

**"King Kalakhan of Eldrakal, Thou hast proven thyself truly worthy. Take the Crown and wear it with pride, for today thou hast saved the Kingdom from tyranny and despair."**

Kal shook his head.

"I chose to save Lyon, and I meant it! If he dies.."

 **"But he will not."** came the voice again, oddly gentle. **"He is healed, and recovered, and thine enemy's power is blocked for the rest of his days. Now raise your hands, and accept the Crown, King Kalakhan."**

Kal raised his hands, but then lowered them and spoke up again.

"I will only wear the crown if Lyon gives it to me."

A bass chuckle shook the floor.

**"So be it,** _**Prince** _ **Kalakhan, so be it. Lyon Catman of the Hidden Valley shalt place thine Crown upon thy head, and proclaim thee King. We have removed all of the tyrant's soldiers back to their hometowns and sealed the magery of thine enemy, so rule wisely and in peace, brave warrior."**

The light flared brighter than before, then vanished, revealing the near-empty room. Kal looked round, barely registering the presence of J'hatakh, being bound hand and foot by Thiefmaster and Kathleen, or Skystorm standing over them, guarding them should J'hatakh recover. Instead he saw Lyon sitting up, looking incredulous as he did so, and Sharaal, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, holding him so tightly that it seemed that she would never let go. Lyon looked round, then reached into a small pouch and pulled out a small stone incised with runes and strange symbols. He lifted it so that Sharaal could see it, and her eyes went wide with shock and pleasure.

"Sharaal Catwoman of Hawk Ayrie." Lyon said formally. "I present my Bonding-Stone to you, will you accept it, and me, both now and forever more?"

Sharaal's answer, although nonverbal, was a definite yes. Kal smiled and wiped the tears away from his eyes.


	4. Epilogue

The streets of the city flashed with every color under the sun, and the air above it trembled with the roars of cheering and applause as Kal knelt on the stone that had been the site of the coronation of every King of Eldrakal. Lyon, acting in the stead of the priest who normally officiated, but who had respectfully acceded to the new monarch's wishes, moved to behind Kal, and raised the Crown so that the sun caught it and it flashed with every possible color, outshining the crowd.

"People of Eldrakal, I present to you your new king, Kalakhan the First, King of Eldrakal!"

As the crowd erupted with cheers again, Lyon lowered the Crown onto Kal's head, and stepped back as the Crown's radiance enveloped Kal, as well as one other on the podium.

"No!" squawked Skystorm, momentarily robbed of dignity. "Me? I'm the Monarch's Immortal?"

Kal stood and walked over to Skystorm.

"I would be honored if you accepted, my friend."

Skystorm looked up at the sky and sighed.

"All right, we've saved each other, we work well together, so we may as well stay as partners."

Kal smiled and spontaneously hugged Skystorm, and the crowd cheered again. Releasing the flustered gryphon, he moved to where Lyon and Sharaal stood.

"Are you returning to your valley?"

Lyon nodded as Sharaal hugged him closer.

"We are, Kal, but we shall visit from time to time."

"That we shall, Lyon."

Kal hugged Lyon and Sharaal, then moved to the other side of the podium, where Thiefmaster stood behind the wheeled chair in which Kathleen sat.

"If you try to hug me, My King, you will regret it." warned the Thief, and Kal laughed.

"I would never do anything to reduce your dignity. Have you two decided to accept my offer?"

Kathleen grinned at him.

"Our old jobs back, and quarters in the Castle itself? Of course we accept."

Kal nodded and clasped their hands briefly before moving back to the center of the podium, where Skystorm joined him. Together, they faced forwards, towards the jubilant crowd that they would rule and serve, and the cheers rose once more.


End file.
